


On the road Again

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bedelia and Hannibal are like Bonnie and Clyde, F/M, Hannibal and Bedelia are in their late 20's, M/M, OOC Hannibal, OOC everyone, Roadtrip, Will and Matthew are sixteen, but with cannibalism, obligatory roadtrip fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3546701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Bedelia have been on the road for almost a year now. The couple has been terrorizing the east coast with brutal murders, and so far, no one even knows their names, and Hannibal still hasn't figured out how to use a proper map, even though he's the one who insists on using one. </p><p>Oh and they pick up some runaways along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Babies are not practical murder assisstants

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing something fun

Hannibal was speeding along the empty highway, confident that he wouldn’t get pulled over for going almost forty miles over the speed limit. Bedelia sat next to him, happily munching on something that she picked up from the local gas station, pouring through the CD collection.

“How can he only have Christian rock and angry preacher sermon CD’s? I wonder if he knows that literally every other genre of music exists.” she gripped before turning towards the backseat of the old car, “Do you?” she asked the furious, tied up man writhing on the floor of the backseat. 

Not receiving a response, she threw a blanket back over him to cover him up. Laughing a little when their captive huffed indignantly. 

“Now Bedelia, what if he suffocates? Then what are we going to eat?” 

“I may not be the master chef of this relationship, Hannibal, but I’m pretty sure either way the man is going to have to die so we can eat him, so by that logic, I’m making your life easier.”

Hannibal smirked at her, before leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. “My life is hard enough without you trying to make it ‘easier,’ Bedelia.” Hannibal said before shifting the gears and pushing the little car faster. 

Smiling softly, Bedelia went back to flipping through the CD’s before giving up and slumping back with a sigh. 

“There’s always the radio, Bedelia.” 

“And every station I pick is going to be met with barely hidden contempt, Hannibal.” She answered back just as sweetly.” 

“We’ll listen to the soft sounds of a squealing pig then.”

“A pathetic, shitty music having, squealing pig.” She sighed.

Hannibal rolled his eyes at her and said, “After we bring it back to the cabin to gut him, I’ll buy you an auxiliary cord.”

“ _Thank_ yo-“

“But no more Ramones, _please_.”

“You love the Ramones!”

“I believe my words were, _I can tolerate this more than I can some of the other music you play._ and _you_ took it as a cue to play _only_ the Ramones for three _days!_ So, the Ramones has officially moved from tolerable band to if I hear the Ramones again I will throw your iPod out the window.”

“And I hope _you_ can understand that if you even think about throwing my iPod out of a window, car or otherwise, you’ll be meeting a similar fate.” Bedelia laughed. 

“Windows are tricky murder weapons, my dear. I could still be alive to exact my revenge.” 

Bedelia didn’t respond to him, but instead she pulled the blanket off the enraged man’s face and said, “Can you believe my husband? Honestly. Threating his wife when he has an entire world full of idiotic toys.”

Hannibal sighed, “Bedelia darling, light of my life, please don’t taunt the man, it’s demeaning.” 

“Hannibal, we plan on killing and eating him, I honestly don’t know how his short, sad life could get more debasing than it is now.” Bedelia said in a dry voice. 

“… Fair enough, but I still think you should take a break from talking to your food, it’s unbecoming.”

“Says the man who plays with his food.” 

“What I do is akin to a cat toying with a mouse, what you do could be seen as a sign of a psychotic break.”

“What you do is akin to a two year old ripping the wings off a butterfly.”

“I honestly don’t think I’ve been more insulted in my life!” 

“Well you have a whole pig in the backseat to take your anger out on, so you do with it what you will, junior.” 

“If I’m junior, you’re a cradle-robber.”

“You’re two years older than me!”

“It’s your fault for bringing it up.”

Eventually the two settled into a comfortable silence, agreeing to a tolerable radio station and eating snacks. By the time they made it to the hunting cabin in the middle of nowhere, Virginia they were ready to pass out, but they had work to do. 

Hauling the no longer struggling man out of the car the two dragged him down into the workshop, where everything was set up to gut and skin game. Hunting cabins made everything easier. Hannibal starts by strapping the exhausted, crying man to the table and cuts off all of his clothes. 

From there, he carves the pig into the perfect picture he wants. Depending on how he’s feeling, they might drive back out to set up the body, but tonight they weren’t feeling it, so Bedelia set up the acid to dissolve the body parts. After everything was carved, and the leftover pieces handled, the meat was moved to another table where it’s cleaned and vacuum – sealed with a hand-prepared marinade that was pretty much a family recipe. 

Oddly enough, Hannibal never really wanted to talk about the family member that actually came up with the marinade. It almost seems to Bedelia like he’s embarrassed or something. Whenever she brings up Hannibal’s cousin, she mumbles something about morons and sweat before dropping the subject completely. 

But anyway, 

After five grueling hours of work, Bedelia and Hannibal scrubbed the place clean and made sure it was ready for the next slaughter to come through. He couple trudged upstairs and took the car to drop it in an empty lot not too far away, where their own car was parked close by. Or at least it should be. 

There were a couple of incidents where the car was stolen by drug addicts, desperate people, or kids looking for a joyride. They had always gotten the car back, but there was always the irritating _hassle_ of the matter.

Luckily for Hannibal and Bedelia, the car was in the exact spot they left it in and they managed to leave the other car behind with minimal fuss. Tomorrow they would gather all the meat they had collected and hit the road, after burning down the cabin. They had been in one place for too long and their actions were starting to get noticed. 

As Bedelia drove home, Hannibal looked online for decent motels further south, wondering if he could get away with booking an actual hotel, despite Bedelia’s weird demands for living low key. 

The next day the two packed up and let the cabin burn from the outside in. By the time they heard sirens, the two were on the highway and speeding towards their newest destination. 

“So, where did you decide on?” Bedelia asked.

“I think I want to adopt a child.”

“Hmm, see when I asked where you want to go, I meant destination wise. You know, the next small town where you and I will  
abduct, torture, brutally murder people we find rude? Then we’ll cannibalize them? We have a cooler full of human meat in the back seat, Hannibal. I don’t know much about babies, but I’m pretty sure organs don’t make good baby toys.”

“Actually, in ancient times several toys were made out of the stomachs of animals. Rattles, balls-“

“Hannibal! Main point hello, yes? Babies and murder don’t go together. They aren’t compatible. It’s like mixing Harley Quinn and Nuns or something! It doesn’t work! Unless you want to stop? We haven’t been caught yet.”

“I don’t want to stop, I also never said baby, I said child.”

“What? Ok so anyone over the age of one isn’t going to like the idea of murder. Most people have morals.”

“I’m sure we can find someone who’s in a desperate enough situation where we can take them and mold them into what we want. I have faith.”

“You have something.” Bedelia muttered. 

“Just take this exit. We’re going to New Orleans.”


	2. A simple sense of direction is needed to work a map, Hannibal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Bedelia get turned around!   
> And they meet some new people!!  
> And Hannibal gets yelled at by Bedelia because she's the only one who  
> can get away with yelling at Hannibal and she knows it!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this fic, this is good for me  
> good for you  
> good for the guy behind you with the weird smile  
> ...you should look into that.   
> Just sayin...

Once the two made it to New Orleans, they were close to passing out from exhaustion. 

“We’ve been driving all night, Hannibal. Tell me you know where we can get a decent motel.” 

“Yes, just take this exit up here – no! Bedelia you passed it!” Hannibal yelled turning to glare at the exit sign as if its placement was at fault as well.

“Hannibal you told me the exit as I was parallel to it, two lanes away! How the fuck was I supposed to get over there huh?” She snapped back. “I swear you are the worst navigator!   
"We have a GPS! Why the fuck do we _never_ use it? Oh, I know! It’s because you’re so fucking pretentious you prefer fucking maps! It’s like a fetish or something!”

“It is _not_ a fetish! We need to be able to read a map in case we’re discovered! That way we won’t be tracked by GPS signal! It’s a perfectly reasonable-“

“Hannibal that only works if you can actually _read_ the map! Something _you_ cannot do! You know who can? Me! You know who’s also being forced to drive? Me! You know who can’t read maps and also isn’t driving and doesn’t know where we’re going? _You!_ Bedelia was shouting at this point but it made little difference, Hannibal was back to staring at the map again, looking for a better way to get back to their chosen motel. “You’re looking at the wrong area, Hannibal!” 

“I know what I’m doing, Bedelia!” 

“Look! There’s a motel in over there! We’re going!” 

“No Bedelia, I’ve got this!” Hannibal pleaded, but it was a no-go. Bedelia pulled off the highway and took off on the road towards the motel. 

"Go get us a nice _clean_ room Hannibal." Bedelia said, pulling up to the front office. Hannibal scoffed but still got out of the car, checking for his wallet and fake ID. Shuffling tiredly towards the front door, Hannibal sighed when he realized that no one was there. If the owner didn’t show up soon, Hannibal would be forced to take action. 

Murderous Action. 

But, luckily for the owner, he showed up and greeted Hannibal with an oily smile.   
“Hello! My name’s Samuel Graham, how may I help you?” The man said with a thick accent. He was a large man and he probably had a large personality to match. His presence was beginning to grate on Hannibal’s nerves, but he needed a room. Bedelia would kill him if he came out with a body and not a set of keys. 

“Hello, I need a room for the night, and depending on how my wife feels, possibly more. For now I’ll just take your cleanest, available room, please.” 

“You insinuating my rooms aren’t clean, mister?” The man said in a voice that Hannibal assumed was supposed to be threatening, but it just wanted to make Hannibal laugh at him. 

“Not at all, I’m merely requesting your cleanest one. If that’s no trouble.” Hannibal responded calmly. He was just waiting for a reason to snap this man’s thick neck.  
The man paused and Hannibal saw a weird glint in his eyes before throwing back his head and laughing. “Alright, alright I hear you. Where are you from? You talk real funny.” 

“Germany.” Hannibal said, staring out the window at Bedelia who was glaring at him through the windshield. He wondered if he glared hard enough, he could convince Bedelia to just _fucking listen_ to him and let him direct him to the better motel. Her glare indicated that she misread Hannibal’s intense glare and Hannibal groaned when he realized he just dug himself into a deeper hole.

“Huh,” the man grunted before opening the door behind the desk and yelling at a boy who looked to be in his mid-teens. The boy flinched at the harsh words and stood up so fast his chair fell over. He rushed out of the rooms and grabbed the key Mr. Graham thrust at him. 

As Hannibal was walking out, the motel owner coughed to get his attention. 

“Make sure he doesn’t steal anything a' yours. Boy came from a shit home in a shit town, he had to steal all his life and even though he's got everything he could hope for now, he’s still got them sticky fingers. Took him in outta the kindness of my heart, and he repays me in police records and missing valuables.” He said, loud enough for the young boy to hear. Hannibal saw the kid flinch violently, as if the words were rocks thrown at his back. 

“Follow me, sir.” The boy murmured at him without making eye contact.   
Hannibal nodded and shut the office door firmly behind him. Eyeing the despondent boy critically, Hannibal spoke directly to him for the first time. 

“Your foster-father seems harsh.”

“He’s not my foster father, and none of that stuff is true. Sir.” The boy clearly thought that was the end of the conversation. 

_Well frankly my dear, i don't give a damn._ Hannibal thought to himself, before groaning. He _has_ to stop watching old movies with Bedelia, what is with her and classic movies anyway? Anyway, the point is, Hannibal was like a dog with a bone, that and he was bored and curious. None if it had to do with the fact that Bedelia was angry at him. 

Nope.

None at all. 

“Well, he can’t be that horrid. He _did_ take you in.” Hannibal said, knowing perfectly well that adoption didn’t make saints out of people. 

“Look sir,” the boy said stopping in front of what could only be Hannibal’s room. “What I have here is complicated, but it’s none of your business. Enjoy your stay.” The boy said as he turned away. 

“What is your name?” Hannibal called at the boy’s back.

Pausing, the boy spoke to the ground in front of him. 

“Matthew, sir.” He said before running back towards the office, not even pausing to ask for a tip. 

“Curious.” Hannibal murmured before wincing harshly when Bedelia tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Make a new friend? Should I buy a bottle of champagne? How does it feel having a friend? Does it tingle in strange places?”

“I thought we were friends?”

“Hannibal I wrote you a letter when you started your killing spree and you kidnapped me from my family home in Montreal and took me on a murderous road trip.” Bedelia said dryly, taking the key from Hannibal and unlocking the door.

“And you’re telling me after four years we aren’t friends?” Hannibal said lightly, following behind her. “I mean we _are_ married. I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count. I was there for your weird alien phase, which I don’t think that actually ended… And I didn’t kidnap you! You told me where you lived and gave me detailed instructions on how to reach you and when to come get you! You had a packed bag!”

“I feel like we’ve passed up the awkward friendship stage, which believe me is as weird and uncomfortable as it sounds. And I was sixteen, technically you did kidnap me! But yeah on to more pressing matters. What are we eating, and who was that kid? He looked sad.”

“Well I refuse to eat that sorry excuse for pizza, so I guess seafood.”

“Gumbo it is!” Bedelia chirped before diving for the phone.

“Bedelia I specifically said seafood!”

“Fine we’ll get some crawfish or something, relax. In the meantime see if we have any jerky in the car.”

Hannibal grumbled to himself while he trudged out to the car through the muggy heat, swatting at mosquitoes and cursing. “I should’ve just left your ass in Canada.” He growled while snatching the plastic bag out of the glove compartment, jumping for the _second fucking time_ that day when he heard the faint noise of someone sneaking up behind him. 

He spun around, ready to strike out, only to find out that it was another teenager, about the same age as Matthew trying to sneak past him. 

“Shit, sorry sir! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to get to the office without my dad seeing me. I thought you were a client.”

“Client?” Hannibal asked, knowing somehow that the boy wasn’t talking about staying one of the rooms.

“Oh, um. Nothing sir! I’m sorry to have disturbed you! Have a nice night!”

So, the owner has two sons. Interesting. This one looked a little bit like the owner, so the kid that just ran past him might actually be related to the father.   
_Another mystery, Thelma._ Hannibal thought to himself idly munching in jerky. _Or is it Mina? No its something with a V… Valarie? No no. Bedelia’s going to freak out when I tell her I don’t now who Velma i- VELMA. Her name’s Velma._ "Perfect" Hannibal said happily. "Now I don't have to re-watch forty thousand seasons of Scoot-Do!" he said punching the air.

"Huh, this bag is lighter than I."

“Fuck, I ate it all!” Hannibal shouted. 

"That's also not the name of the show." Bedelia said, making it three for three in the game of startling Hannibal. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Hannibal said, "Am I losing it? How do people keep sneaking up on me?" 

"Well you can have your existential crisis in the motel room, where there's a T.V. and a VCR, and its also where I happen to have the first season of Scooby-Doo on VHS. So come on, Shaggy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE COME YELL HEADCANONS AT ME I AM SUPER BORED  
> [My Blog in a fun, simple, easy to use, url form, Enjoy](http://rococoandrum.tumblr.com/)  
> Special thanks to Auto-correct for the idea for scoot-do


End file.
